


Lockdown is Screwed

by Author_Of_Insanity101



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Lockdown screwed up big time, M/M, Masochism, Pain, Sadism, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26317693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_Of_Insanity101/pseuds/Author_Of_Insanity101
Summary: Lockdown screwed up. Luckily, Devcon is there to save him from himself, and to insure it doesn't happen again.
Relationships: Devcon/Lockdown
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Lockdown is Screwed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Arrangement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/391167) by [ladydragon76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76). 



> ‘Verse: IDW  
> Series: None  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Characters: Devcon/Lockdown  
> Warning: BDSM, specifically Bondage, Masochism, Sadism, and pain, lots of it  
> Notes: I don't know much about Devcon, and what I know of Lockdown is from Animated, so... yeah.

Lockdown had made his fair share of mistakes in his career, but this was one of the biggest. It should have been an easy job, his prey easy to catch, but he'd slipped up. His prey had gotten loose and killed his client, making it look like Lockdown had been helping him the entire time. Knowing his own reputation would bite him in the aft, Lockdown had fled. Now, he was the prey, the bounty on his head a fairly large amount. He needed to lay low and disappear for awhile, but with the number of enemies he'd made in his line of work, it was unlikely he would be able to stay hidden for long.

At the moment, Lockdown was just floating in the deepest recesses of space, his ship shut down and shields at max, attempting to gain some semblance of a recharge before the turbohounds came sniffing. He rested fitfully on his berth, age-old instincts keeping him from truly nodding off. Despite the familiarity of his ship, he didn't feel remotely safe, nor did he think he would for some time. His empty fuel tank certainly didn't help either. He'd been low on funds even before he'd screwed up, and had been living off of what Energon reserves he'd saved up, but they were getting close to empty, forcing him to ration them down to barely nothing just to keep himself online.

These thoughts haunted his processor as something connected to the airlock on his ship.

The pneumatic hiss made Lockdown shoot up from his berth, struggling to his feet even as his HUD sent warning after warning about his condition. He ignored them all, determined to stand tall as whomever was boarding his ship approached. Metallic footsteps echoed through the airlock, then the door opened, revealing the intruder.

"Well," Devcon sneered as he stepped into Lockdown's main cabin, blaster aimed right at the merc's chest plate, "you certainly fucked yourself over good this time, Lockdown."

Lockdown froze at the tone of voice in the hunter's voice, slowly raising his hands up high. The malice and contempt in the Autobot's eyes made him shudder, especially knowing just how much Devcon hated Decepticons, including Lockdown himself. Still, for the past several stellar cycles, there had been something between them, an understanding that they both had agreed to about what they needed. Lockdown needed to hurt, and Devcon needed to inflict pain. It wasn't friendship, love, or even lust, but it was something they had both needed. Many a night, Lockdown would find himself dreaming of the Bot's electro-whip, of screaming his name to Primus and Unicron, of tight chains and the darkened belly of Devcon's ship. Now, Lockdown silently wondered if their trysts would aid him in this particular instance, but he wasn't going to hedge his bets.

"Here to collect?" Lockdown questioned, hating how weak his vocalizer was from lack of power.

Devcon let out a sharp vent that was almost like a snort, shoving Lockdown hard onto his berth. The hunter fell, looking up just in time to see a pair of stasis cuffs snap onto his wrists.

"Not quite," Devcon told him, a cold, cruel smirk gracing his faceplate. "I can't have my favorite toy getting broken by someone else."

In that moment, all of the fear left Lockdown. He sagged onto the berth and let the power of the stasis cuffs rob him of his movement. He didn't even protest when Devcon grabbed him by his ankle, dragging him through the airlock. It wasn't the first time he was manhandled like this, and if he was honest, Lockdown needed this rough treatment. He needed to pay for his massive screw up. He needed to hurt like he'd never been hurt before. He needed Devcon to break him, and if the death grip on his ankle was anything to go by, that is exactly what the Bot planned to do.

Devcon threw Lockdown into one of the holding cells in his ship, activating the field. He then marched off, no doubt to deal with Lockdown's ship. The captive hunter guessed Devcon would rig it to blow, probably plant some Decepticon plating to make it look like Lockdown had gone down with it. The hunt would be over, but Lockdown would lose everything, left as nothing more than a toy for the psychotic Autobot.

The idea made Lockdown shudder in ecstasy.

He felt the ship shake slightly, no doubt from whatever explosion had just destroyed his ship. Not long after that, the ship lurched and took off. After a few minutes, Devcon returned to the brig, crouching down and smirking at his captive.

"Seems my reputation proceeds me," he remarked. "I called up the client who issued your bounty, told him I caught you and blew up your ship. Seems he's happy to know you're in the hands of someone who will 'make the slagger's life a living Pit'. Just requested I send a video of me torturing you until your vocalizer cuts out from screaming."

Once again, Lockdown shuddered. Devcon smirked at the reaction.

"Once I collect my bounty, we'll discuss our new arrangement. That is to say, I'll tell you what's going to happen, and you'll be a silent little frag toy agreeing the entire time."

Lockdown gave a slow, deliberate nod, not trusting his voice at the moment. He could feel his inner panels heating up from Devcon's words alone, and if he was reading his captor's- no, his owner's words right, he'd indeed receive the punishment he so richly deserved.

...

The crack of Devcon's electro-whip filled the air, followed by the static-heavy screams of Lockdown. the former hunter was on his knees, a blindfold around his face and his wrists attached to his neck. A thick collar sat tightly around his throat, a constant reminder of what he had become. The added weight of his own arms forced his head down and his aft high in the air, just like Devcon liked him. His legs were spread obscenely wide, a large spreader bar locking his ankles in place, leaving his aft, valve, and spike available for torture. His modesty panels had long since been ripped off, an action that had brought on one of Lockdown's strongest overloads.

Devcon brought the whip down again, the electrified coil snapping against the unprotected valve, eliciting another staticy scream from Lockdown. More and more blows rained down, covering Lockdown's most sensitive area with welts and bubbling paint. It matched the rest of his frame, most of his back and legs having been stripped of their paint after several of these sessions. His knees had deep dents in them, and he could not remember the last time he had been allowed to stand on his own two feet.

"Please..." Lockdown begged, forcing the words out through ragged vents. "Please... more..."

Before, Devcon never used to say a word, simply beating Lockdown until they both were sated. Now though, Devcon took great pleasure in utterly debasing his new frag toy.

"Please what?" he sneered, shoving two fingers into Lockdown's drenched valve

Lockdown choked as his aching valve was brutally molested by Devcon's fingers, but he forced the words through his tormented vocalizer.

"Please... break me..."

Devcon grinned, raising his whip.

"Gladly."

(TBC...)

**Author's Note:**

> I am HORRIBLE at smut, so PLEASE don't judge too harshly


End file.
